


Getting Ready for Friday Night

by Rachel Wilder (rwilder)



Category: Friday Night Lights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3274757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rwilder/pseuds/Rachel%20Wilder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://fnl-laundrylist.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://fnl-laundrylist.livejournal.com/">fnl_laundrylist</a> #27 prompt 11 - <i>What does Coach mean by he needs something good to happen? Is his career in need of a NFL kid or is it more simplistic than that. Does he just need to know his boys can do it after Jason.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Ready for Friday Night

**Title** : Getting Ready for Friday Night  
 **Authors** : [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Written for [](http://fnl-laundrylist.livejournal.com/profile)[**fnl_laundrylist**](http://fnl-laundrylist.livejournal.com/) #27 prompt 11 - _What does Coach mean by he needs something good to happen? Is his career in need of a NFL kid or is it more simplistic than that. Does he just need to know his boys can do it after Jason._

**Are You Ready for Friday Night?  
**

Eric Taylor looked across the gym at all the students, dressed in Panther blue and gold, screaming at the top of their lungs, cheering. Tami was on the stage, whipping up the crowd. He knew it was time to go on—time to turn it back on. Time to get ready for Friday night.

But was he ready for Friday night? Would he ever really be ready for Friday night again?

*~*~*  
Being a football coach in Texas required many things. It required an analytical mind, an ability to see at least three plays ahead of the opposing team, and the patience to manage the needs and moods of the kids on your team.

It required nerves of steel and the ability to not take it personally when everyone from the guy on the radio to your neighbor to the lady in the check-out line at the Safeway wanted to critique the way you ran your offense.

It required keeping those kids in good form and teaching them how to be smart and not get hurt.

And it required not letting those kids in—not letting them get in your heart where it would hurt when something went wrong.

He should have learned his lesson with Jason Street. Lord knows he took that kid in, taught him everything he knew and gave him the tools to be successful on the field.

But he had forgotten to teach Jason the most important lesson of all—that losing a game on a football field, even in front of your family and 10,000 fans, wasn't worth risking your life, even if it was just your life as you knew it.

He wished he could yell out there and make Jason understand that an interception wasn't the end of the world, that even if they lost to Westerby, they would come back—that they could still make it to State.

But he never had the chance because Jason threw his body at the defenseman and he never got up.

*~*~*  
Seeing Smash go down on the field against West Cambria was almost worse. Another still body. Another mother crying. Another ambulance out on the field where it should never be.

As they loaded Smash onto the gurney he turned around at the silent crowd.

Jason Street was sitting there with his parents.

He had to look away. He couldn't look at the Streets, he couldn't look at Corinna Williams, or Tami or the ashen faces of his players.

They should have just ended the game there and walked away. It would take another week, but the season was over for the Dillon Panthers.

And deep in his heart, Eric knew that it was a sign to walk away. It wasn't worth a state ring if it meant that a kid would never walk again, or another kid would lose his chance to go to college. Winning wasn't worth it.

*~*~*  
Getting ready for the new season was hard. The first morning he hit the snooze button twice before Tami called him on it.

"You getting up, babe?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied quietly. He was getting up because it was expected of him and it was how he provided for his family, but it wasn't like before. The first day of practice used to be like Christmas or Easter. Now it was a job. He groaned silently and pushed back the covers, sliding his legs to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, I got paperwork for a transfer student yesterday," Tami said as she reached up and rubbed her hand up his back, under his t-shirt. "Says he plans to play football, so keep an eye out for him today."

"'Kay," Eric replied.

"Yeah, transfer from Dallas—J.D. Mc-something."

Eric turned back and looked at her. "J.D. McCoy?"

"Yeah," Tami answered, nodding. "How'd you know that?"

"He led his Pop Warner team to the Super Bowl—first team from Texas to do that in a few years," Eric replied. He stood up from the bed and headed toward the bathroom to get in the shower. He paused and looked back at Tami lying in the bed. It was hard not to crawl back in with her and tuck himself in her arms.

"Smash called last night, after you went to bed," she added. "Said he'd changed his schedule and would come over after practice to work out."

Eric nodded. They were piling up on top of each other—the new victims and the tossed aside former warriors.

"You can't save them all, Babe," Tami said, quietly.

Eric shook his head. "I know."

*~*~*  
He picked the kid out the minute he walked into the locker room. He had that look. That same look that Jason Street had the first time he saw him in Pee Wees.

"New guys—grab your gear from Coach MacGill."

He watched as J.D. followed the other boys down the hallway to the equipment room.

He isn’t sure he can do it again. But for now there's no other option than to get out on the field. Today they start with tackling drills and everyone is going to participate.

"Coach?"

Eric looked up to see the young quarterback holding his right hand out to him, his left holding on to his shoulder pads and helmet.

"I'm real glad to be here—it's a real honor, sir."

Eric nodded and smiled and reached out his hand to take the offered handshake. It wasn't this kid's fault that Jason Street had broken his neck or that Smash Williams had blown out his knee. It was hard to acknowledge, but Eric knew that the best thing he could do for this kid was to teach him the craft of football—how to do it well and do it safely.

He had to get his nerve back.

*~*~*  
"My date to the Homecoming dance...Eric Taylor!" The crowd cheered and Tami held out her hand toward him. He took a deep breath in and then jogged across the floor to take the microphone from her.

"I just have one question," he started. He looked around the room, at the smiling face of his wife, the overjoyed face of Buddy Garrity, and the anxious faces of his players. Waiting for the coach to lead them onto the floor. Could he do it? Could he do this?

Eric looked up at the crowd. Jason and Smash. Standing up on the top bleacher like they had the day he was announced as the new coach. Clapping. Cheering him on. He knew they weren't actually up there, but in his mind's eye he could see them clearly. He took another deep breath and then pulled the microphone up to his mouth.

"I want to ask one question. I want to ask all of you only one question. You ready for Friday Night?"

 

*~*~*  
Many thanks for my faithful beta, friend and writing partner [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) for her excellent editing and to the other half of my brain, [](http://1407graymalkin.livejournal.com/profile)[**1407graymalkin**](http://1407graymalkin.livejournal.com/) for continuing to inspire me to write with her lists.


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